


In Which Being Sick Is Not the Worst Thing To Happen To Joe Trohman

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can't record if both of you are sick!" Sean paced the small room, hands way too expressive for the space, seeing as he almost backhanded Pete across the face. "Am I supposed to apologize?" Patrick tried to snap back, but between his sniffling and his crackly, hoarse voice he didn't sound threatening at all. That, paired with the fact that he was 5'4 and lying down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Being Sick Is Not the Worst Thing To Happen To Joe Trohman

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for the title it's so bad but it's midnight cut me some slack

"We can't _record_ if both of you are sick!" Sean paced the small room, hands way too expressive for the space, seeing as he almost backhanded Pete across the face. "Am I supposed to apologize?" Patrick tried to snap back, but between his sniffling and his crackly, hoarse voice he didn't sound threatening at all. That, paired with the fact that he was 5'4 and lying down. "No, he is!" Sean pointed at Joe, who held his hands up defensively. 

"That's not fair. He didn't mean to be a dumbass." Pete interjected. "Thanks, Pete." Joe glared, red-rimmed eyes watering from congestion. 

"I was trying to _help_." Joe addressed Sean, who shook his head and rubbed his face with both of his hands. "Just get some rest," Sean skirted around Pete to get to the door, "and try not to get anyone else sick."

Before Patrick could respond, Sean was out of the room. Pete leaned against the wall- there weren't any chairs, there was barely enough room for the air mattress. "Do you guys want anything?" Pete offered. Joe sniffed. "Tissues, would be nice."

"Do we have tea?" Patrick asked, sounding a little hopeful.

"We barely have enough money for a can of soup."

Patrick shimmied down so his head was on the air mattress. "It was worth a try." He muttered to himself. "I'll see what I can do." Pete left the room in search of something tissue-esque. 

 

"Paatrriiiiccckkkkkk…" Joe dragged Patrick's name over a lisp and through a phlegm-filled throat. "I'm trying to _sleep_." Patrick responded without rolling over. "This is how I die. I'm gonna die on this air mattress. Right here. This is so terrible. I'm gonna die."

"Stop being so dramatic." Patrick mumbled.

"I don't like being sick." Joe whined.

"Oh yeah? I just love it. My favorite thing is not being able to breathe out of my left nostril. And the fact that I've been nursing a bottle of cough syrup for two and a half days." Half asleep, delusional from medication, Patrick's sarcasm was still sharp as ever. Joe laughed, which turned into hacking coughing.

"Jesus. Give up the pack a day." A voice came from the door.

"Oh, hey, Andy." Joe raised a hand. Andy, the latest addition to the band, who's first impression of Patrick and Joe would be their suffering on an air mattress on some stranger's floor.

"This is from Pete." Andy tossed him a roll of toilet paper. "I'm saved." Joe let the roll fall into his lap.

Okay, well, his first impression was actually them in the studio, when Patrick and Joe totally _killed_ it on guitar. Dynamic duo style.

"Your sarcasm is appreciated." Andy quipped. Joe noticed, in his other hand, was a mug of something with steam coming off it.

"Thanks." Joe eyed the mug.

"You're Patrick, right?" Andy was now addressing Patrick, who'd put his rolled up jacket over his head. Joe looked at him. "Yeah, that's him."

"I brought you tea." Andy maneuvered around the mattress and crouched next to Patrick, who sat up ever so slowly, complaining the whole time.

 

Joe raised an eyebrow as Patrick took sips from the mug. "Pete said we couldn't afford that."

" _We_ can't, I can. Unlike Pete, I was in a successful band."

Joe made a move to jump at Andy, but he was thrown into another coughing fit. He also rocked the mattress a little, which earned a glare equivalent to a volley of daggers from Patrick. "Joe I swear to _god_ if you make me spill any of this tea I will pour the rest on your head."

Instead of responding, Andy left the room. "Yeah, you better run." Joe called after him non-threateningly. Patrick rolled his eyes, slumped against the wall.

 

Within the minute, Andy was back with four pillows jammed under his arms. He went to Joe first, peeling him off the wall. Joe protested, but his limited motor control left him at the mercy of the new guy drummer. Andy tucked one pillow by Joe's lower back and angled the other one to support Joe's neck. He went around to Patrick, who leaned forward and allowed Andy to place the pillows. "I'll go find you guys some water. You need to stay hydrated." Andy sounded more like he was talking to himself, but Joe found himself very appreciative of his care. "Thank you." He said. Patrick nodded as if to say _'yeah, what he said'._

 

Andy had periodically shown up with water and multivitamins and vitamin c. And Pete kept coming, taking away blankets and bringing them back at Patrick and Joe's request. Joe was shocked, to say the least. He'd never seen Pete this… he was almost, fatherly. Maybe that was just the cough syrup talking, but Joe had a little buzzing feeling at the back of his head that said Pete was going to be a really good dad one day. Joe thought about mentioning that to Patrick, but he was out like a light. Joe shimmied himself down the mattress, rolling onto his side. He hesitated for a second before putting his arm over Patrick's torso and curling slightly to conform to Patrick's position. Almost instantly, Joe could feel his nose clogging and felt the urge to sit up again, but he figured if he just fell asleep…

"Sorry for getting you sick." Patrick murmured. His voice was low and scratchy, he'd just woken up. He didn't open his eyes.

Joe squeezed his torso a little. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have been making out with the infected one." Joe couldn't help the smirk that played across his face.

Patrick started to laugh, which fell into hacking up phlegm. "Oh, man, that was hot." Joe buried his face in Patrick's neck so he wouldn't have to look at Patrick wiping his face with a tissue. 

"You're awful."

"I know."

Patrick wiggled backwards the slightest bit to fit himself better into Joe's arms, right as they heard the door open. Neither of them moved.

 

"Oh, good. The babies are asleep." Pete. 

"Maybe their proximity will cancel out each other's cold." Andy was there too.

"As long as they get better quickly."

"Get _out_ , Sean." Pete hissed. 

The next sound was all of them shuffling out of the room and the door closing. "I thought they'd never leave." Patrick muttered, adjusting his head on the pillow. Joe took Patrick's hand and interlocked their fingers. Their breathing fell into a choked, phlegmy rhythm and they fell asleep.

 


End file.
